There’s a saying online: “If someone truly loves you, you can’t leave or run away unless that person intends to let you go.”
Is Hamish unwilling to let her go a true sign of love? Would love resort to violence against her? Would love cast such fierce, menacing glances at her? Would love contemplate killing their child?
Her eyes welled up with tears due to the stress, and big droplets rolled down her cheeks.
With an expressionless face, Hamish watched the glistening streaks on Elisa’s face. He maintained his grip until the bodyguard injected a dose into Elisa’s wrist, after which he relaxed his hold.
Shortly after the injection, Elisa’s consciousness began to blur, her limbs numbed. She tried to cry out for help, but her voice wouldn’t come out. Keeping her eyelids open took all her strength at that moment.
Hamish lifted Elisa’s limp body and instructed the bodyguard to tidy up the room inside.
Elisa wept helplessly, her throat emitting a trembling sound, “Let me go, Hamish, please let me go…” She softened in his embrace, her voice barely audible, feeble and thin. It was hard to make out what she was saying.
That faint voice, so low and gentle, almost made Hamish think it was his imagination.
He remained silent, only holding Elisa tighter, carrying her into the carriage.
It was half past eight in the evening, and there were still many people on the street. Some had finished their dinner and were out for a walk, while others had come out for square dancing, and young people were meeting for dinner.
As before, seeing two luxury cars parked on the roadside and a group of tall, well-dressed men coming down from the building, people were curious but dared not approach, standing at a distance, stealing glances in silence.
Hamish disliked such attention. After placing Elisa in the carriage, he instructed his men to take care of things and avoid unnecessary trouble.
…
From a god’s eye view, Hamish looked at Elisa curled up in his arms, like an injured cat. He gently raised his hand to stroke her sorrowful features.
“Elisa, I will never let you go in this lifetime.”
Those words seemed to imprison her soul.
Under the influence of the anesthetic, Elisa gradually couldn’t cry anymore. She just stared stiffly with wide eyes, a lifeless void within them, devoid of everything, even the traces of tears had vanished, leaving Hamish feeling a chill.
He couldn’t bear the sight of her eyes in the carriage, as it reminded him of the gruesome deaths of his parents.
Even after all these years, the image of his parents’ tragic deaths remained an indelible shadow in his heart.
At times, he wondered, if he hadn’t been in the car at that time, would his parents still be alive?
Trembling, Hamish covered Elisa’s eyes. In the darkness, Elisa gradually fell into a stupor.
Elisa had a dream; she dreamt she fell off a cliff, and Hamish grabbed her, pulling her up. Just when she wanted to hold him tightly, Hamish’s hand pierced through her belly, pulling out flesh and blood…
Elisa woke from the nightmare. As she raised her eyes, she met Hamish’s pitch-black gaze. Regaining her senses, she glanced around and saw nothing but white, the faint smell of disinfectant lingering in the air.
She had been brought to the hospital by Hamish! Subconsciously, she tried to sit up and escape, only to realize her body was bound to the bed, unable to move anywhere but her neck and fingers.
Sweat beaded on her back. Compared to the anxiety from her dream, Hamish’s gaze made her feel even more restless.
“You’ve slept for ten hours,” Hamish said casually.
Elisa then noticed the bright daylight outside the window, the glaring sunlight piercing in, making her eyes ache.
“Do you want some water?” Hamish asked.
Elisa felt an intense dryness in her throat, with a bitter taste lingering. She turned her head, struggling with her hands, but still couldn’t muster the strength.
“Don’t move, save your energy.” Hamish poured a glass of water for Elisa, with a straw inserted for easy drinking.
He brought the straw to Elisa’s lips. “Drink.”
“Get lost!” Her voice was hoarse, almost incoherent, like she had swallowed gravel, her vocal cords worn from the strain.
“If you don’t drink now, you won’t get the chance before the surgery.”
Elisa’s eyes widened, her fists clenched. Her entire body ached severely, and the deep recesses of her throat emitted a grating sound.
“Don’t… don’t get rid of my child, Hamish, I hate you.” Her voice was cold but carried a hint of pleading.
Her baby seemed to sense the danger, trembling inside her belly.
This was the first time the baby had moved, and it was at this moment.
Tears streamed down her face. How could she protect her baby? Bound as she was, what could she do now? Sharp pain stabbed at her mind, and she felt half of her head going numb.
“Hamish, the baby just moved. Can you feel him? He’s your child. In a few months, you’ll be a father,” she implored.
Hamish’s gaze fell indifferently on her abdomen. “I don’t like him.”
Upon hearing those five words, a flame seemed to ignite in Elisa’s mind, a cold, venomous flame, tightly coiled around her abdomen.
“How could you not like him? We even chose a name together. Have you forgotten? If it’s a girl, we agreed on Jade; if it’s a boy, we chose Jude.”
“That was your fantasy. I never participated.”
So, he had been deceiving her all along. Just when she had invested her emotions and sincerity, he callously trampled over her, wishing her nothing but misery.
At that moment, doctors and nurses entered, preparing to take Elisa to the operating room for the abortion procedure.
She clutched onto a nurse’s hand desperately, almost hoarse, “I didn’t sign a consent form for the surgery. Forcing me into this is illegal!”
“Miss Powell, Mr. Burns has already signed the surgery consent form for you, and you also signed one three months ago. The only thing that changed was the timing of the surgery.”
“No, I don’t agree to terminate the pregnancy. Please, I beg you.”
“Your body isn’t fit for childbirth. Release your grip, Miss Powell. Don’t make it difficult for us.”
She couldn’t let go. If she did, her baby would be lost.
Her tears turned into the most intense despair. The indifferent nurse and Hamish had become heartless demons. Elisa screamed, her voice hoarse.
She recalled the nightmare she had just had, the person who could pull you up from a cliff was the same one who could heartlessly push you down.
Elisa’s stomach twisted in pain. Her face turned pale, and as she coughed hoarsely by the bed, tears fell uncontrollably. Her entire body trembled, and her lips were stained with red.
She stared at Hamish without blinking, as if trying to see through his outer layer to the heart within, wondering why her warmth could not reach it.
If Hamish had any heart at all, he wouldn’t have been so heartless as to abort her child.
She had tried everything, from threats to pleading, but Hamish remained unmoved.
His gaze was colder than ever, seemingly mocking her foolishness.
The baby in her belly, sensing the fear, moved vigorously. Elisa belatedly felt a warm flow from below.
“The baby…” Her face drained of color, and she choked back a sob, unable to stop the tears from falling.
“Save him, help me…” The angels in white she once believed in had turned into soul-snatching demons.
They wouldn’t help her. They would only insert the knife into her belly and bring out the shattered remains of her child.
“Is that the abortion?” “Hurry, take her in,” the nurses said as they pushed the bed into the operating room.
The vivid crimson, impossible for Hamish to ignore, and the pungent smell of blood permeated the air.
Elisa’s eyes were tainted with blood, the hatred within them chilling Hamish to the core, freezing his feet in place, unable to move. In their final gaze, Elisa writhed, her voice hoarse and guttural as she uttered three words: “I hate you.”
Sunlight streamed through the window, hazy and indistinct, casting a dimness over those despairing eyes, then slowly fading away.
Some people suddenly appear in your world perhaps just to tell you one thing: “You’re really easy to deceive!”
The blood was nauseating, a wave of abdominal pain crashing over her. Elisa stared at the ceiling, and suddenly the entire world spun around her. The surgical light shone above her head, and fresh blood snaked down her legs.
After Elisa was taken into the operating room, Hamish collapsed weakly against the wall, staring at his hands. Though they were clearly clean, he saw them covered in blood.
A tear fell into his palm, his hands clenched into fists, holding back the tears.
On October 22nd, four months into her pregnancy, Elisa’s life changed forever as Hamish found himself escorting his beloved into the operating room for a miscarriage.
Later, after losing Elisa, the thought of this day always sent shivers down his spine, becoming the second nightmare of his life.
Elisa lay in the operating room, drifting in and out of consciousness, feeling as though she was nearing the brink of death. She could even sense how the cold instruments slowly cut into her flesh.
There was only the sound of machines around her; she floated in the high void, constantly facing the terrifying prospect of falling from the heights. The feeling was terrifying to the extreme.
The doctor injected oxytocin into her, causing the uterine membrane to contract. Each contraction felt as though it would crush her spine, enduring one wave only to be met by an even more excruciating one.
Elisa’s body was frail; the doctor’s advice was to avoid surgery if possible.
She trembled, and in the height of agony, she opened her mouth to bite her lip. The doctor, fearing she might hurt herself, placed a towel in her mouth, making it easier for her to bite down and exert force.
Elisa didn’t want to bring the child into the world, but what was happening within her abdomen was beyond her control.
“Baby, don’t leave mommy’s tummy. Mommy’s tummy is warm, don’t come out, please don’t…”
Sweat poured over her, a surge of cold drenching her entire body. The chill seemed to seep into her bones. Elisa struggled to bear the pain, suppressing intermittent sobs, her heart filled with despair.
The baby inside her had descended very low; her previously round belly had now become pear-shaped, all concentrated at the bottom.
The sharp pain changed in intensity, urging her to push downwards with all her might, an instinctual reaction she could barely control.
Her stomach began to ache, and having tasted the metallic tang of blood moments ago, the sickly sweet taste in her throat grew stronger. She wanted to spit it out, but her mouth was stuffed with a towel.
Due to the pain, her breathing, already weak, now felt like suffocation and impending death with the towel stuffed in her mouth.
Seeing her pallor, the doctor immediately removed the towel from her mouth, bringing with it a pool of blood.
She lay there, sticky and cold sweat drenching her hair, clinging to her neck. She could do nothing as the bloodiness engulfed her senses.
Crimson blood trickled down from her lips onto her pallid face, resembling an exotic flower.
Elisa, gazing at the blood before her, couldn’t help but wish it were black. She could pretend it was nighttime, and she could slip into eternal slumber, never to awaken again.
Her consciousness gradually began to dissipate. Elisa caught a whiff of the imminent scent of death. Dying like this wouldn’t be so bad. There was nothing left in this world worth holding onto, so she might as well die with her baby.